A weekend in Paris

One question I am frequently asked lately is: "So why did you decide to live in London?".
Given that it is usually someone British asking, I generally give them one of the following reasons:

• To get a tan
• Things are so cheap here when you're spending Australian dollars
  
• I enjoy crowded trains
• To learn a second language

But seriously, London is brilliant for a host of reasons which I'll save for another post. And if you're not satisfied with just one of the world's greatest cities, you can grab a train, take a nap, and wake up in another.

Two weeks ago was a bank-holiday weekend, and we had the decision of where to go. There were a few places on the 'maybe list', but only one was ever really a contender. When it comes to tourist destinations, Paris is the heavyweight champ. It is the world's most popular tourist destination after all.

We left early Saturday morning on the Eurostar. I know very little about trains, but I can't help noticing that everywhere in the world appears to be significantly better at building them than Oz. This bad-boy traveled at 300km/h for most of the journey. And the only way to tell it was moving was to look out the window at the green blur of English countryside, interrupted by a brief moment of darkness, only to be replaced by the green blur of French countryside. Just over 2 hours later, we stepped off into the middle of Paris. Australian train-builders would do well to steal their notes.*

Given we only had two-and-a-bit days to explore, we focused on the big-ticket items. Where to start? Where else? The tour Eiffel (from here on, all French words will be italicized, and should be mentally pronounced with a bad French accent - comprendez vous?). We headed towards the tower, and on the way passed that other great Parisian landmark, the Arc de Triomphe - but we'll return to it a bit later.

Approaching via the Trocadero, first impressions of the Eiffel tower did not disappoint. It is an imposing piece of art. But it is simply structural art. It was built for no other purpose than to show off - to say "Look what we can build". Although the fact it was built in 1889, and is still the tallest building in Paris, is pretty impressive. And because there are no high-rises in the surrounding area, it completely dominates the skyline.

The cafe we visited to eat some lunch provided M-A her first opportunity to try out her high-school french. I was very impressed. From her conversations with the waitress, I could make out M-A telling her that we were in Paris for two-nights, and that we had come from Australia. No wonder the waitress looked a little surprised. M-A neglected to mention the whole living in London situation.

On dusk, we braved the hour-long (which I'm told is relatively short?) line to ascend the tower. Obviously it gave a great view of Paris at sunset. The illuminated tower at night is also pretty cool; like a giant steel christmas tree.

Sunday, and it was time for another of Paris' great cultural icons; the Musée du Louvre. This was definitely the most people I had ever seen in a museum. Was it this popular before Dan Brown?

The Louvre covers an immense area, so once inside the crowd was generally quite dispersed. However, it was immediately clear which pieces were the rockstars of the art world. The Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa were engulfed by tourist paparazzi. And as far as I could tell, like their human celebrity counterparts, the renown of these works is due more to their fame than any technical superiority over those surrounding them. Research I have done since has reinforced this view. Both pieces have compelling stories attached, involving thefts, vandalism, international tug-of-wars and large doses of conspiracy theories that have only enhanced their profiles (and of course, Dan Brown).

Something I consider to be an interesting compliment to the artists responsible, was that my camera's facial-recognition feature identified the faces of many of the Greek and Roman sculptures. Whatever criteria the software developers at Panasonic consider defines a human face, these artists apparently satisfied them with chisels and marble.

Sunday afternoon we took the long walk down the Champs-Élysées, which runs all the way from the Louvre to the Arc de Triomphe. The icons on this Napoléon Bonaparte vanity piece depict nude French youths battling giant, bearded, chain-mailed, German warriors. Maybe Napoleon should have spent less on giant arches, and more on buying his soldiers some armour (or even some clothes)? At least the view from the top was good.

Sunday evening we caught the Metro up to Montmartre, and found a quaint little restaurant, the La Maison Rose.After some great food and wine, we walked to the Sacré-Cœur Basilica - another monstrosity of a church with a prime piece of real estate (sorry, just try to ration my enthusiasm for churches for when I eventually travel to Rome).

Monday morning we relaxed, Paris-style, with a couple of espressos and some pastries, before taking the Eurostar back to London. Final verdict: Brilliant city. If I spoke French I'd seriously consider living there. Unfortunately the only phrase I managed to learn was Je ne parle pas français.

Coming soon: a cheese-rolling adventure. Stay tuned.

* No offense meant to any Australian rail workers. I'm sure the Australian soil\climate\government-funding\[insert excuse here] are at fault. In fact, the number of times I rode without a ticket means I'm probably partly to blame?